


An Unlikely Pair

by firelord65



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, No-war AU, Personal Training Together, Post-Initiation (Divergent), Recent Relationship Drama, Requited Pining, accidental injury, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: Tris gets assigned to work with Four one-on-one after Initiation wraps up. Only problem is, he doesn't think it's suitable since their relationship fell apart. Someone else has to step up to train her instead and, well, why shouldn't that be Eric?
Relationships: Eric/Tris Prior
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60
Collections: pine4pine 2020





	An Unlikely Pair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



After all was said and done, Initiation certainly had given Tris and the others their first taste of Dauntless life. Not just of training - though there was plenty of _that_ \- but also of living in the faction. Most everything - yes, even the stressful fear landscapes - had her hungry for more of the faction. But one experience had put a sour taste in her mouth that was threatening to take over her initial surge of excitement. Their daily schedules forced her from sulking even though she more than wished she could just lurk in the dorm.

She squared her shoulders. Kept a neutral expression. Tried to let herself just get buoyed about the post-Initiation rundown of expectations. She could manage that. 

“You ready for assignments?” Will said, bouncing on his heels. Tris jerked up from tying her bootlaces. Somehow in all her self-pity, she’d put it completely out of her mind. 

“I guess I have to be?” she replied. There was no way he didn’t hear her hesitation. 

Christina danced over to solidify Tris’ discomfort. She valued her friend’s thoughts and attention, but she really didn’t want to get into… “You don’t think you’ll get paired up with him, do you? I’m sure it won’t happen,” Christina said, immediately answering her own question. 

Tris felt her ears burn. She ducked back down to adjust her laces. “I really didn’t want to think about it one way or another,” she glowered. 

“I mean, you have to consider the possibility-” Will started. He earned a smack from Christina. 

“That’s not what she wants to hear,” Christina hissed. 

Will scoffed, shaking his head. “ _You_ brought it up!” 

Tris stood and went to the doorway. Now that she was thinking about assignments, her nerves were starting to make her ears ring. Worse, she could still hear her friends talking about her down the hall. At least, she assumed it was about her. There were too many repeated mentions of Four’s name for it to be much else. 

She found a relatively empty space in the small room that all the recent Initiates were gathered in. That was, those who had passed Initiation. The lack of Drew, Myra, and the trio of Dauntless-borns who had been cut was still surreal. In the front half of the room there was a scattering of older Dauntless. The mentors. Tris chewed on the skin next to her nailbeds, a nervous habit she hadn’t kicked yet. Her eyes tracked through the sea of possible mentors. 

A hand clapped on her shoulder and she jumped. “Geeze, Will,” she hissed. “Can you not?”

“You went ahead of us. How come?” he asked. 

Christina rolled her eyes and pulled his arm around her shoulders instead. Her retort was lost to the sound of Max clapping his hands three times to silence the group. “You all know why we’re here today. There aren’t any speeches written for today - none that I like at least - so I’ll just get to the point,” he announced. He held a curled piece of paper in his fist. The list. 

Tris leaned against the wall. She’d ranked first. Did that mean she would be assigned first? Max unrolled the paper and cleared his throat. “Right. Starting with Officer Baker we have Uriah Pedrad.” 

Polite clapping sprang up among the clusters of people. Uriah jogged up to the front of the room and accepted a fist bump with his new mentor. “Don’t believe what Zeke might have told you,” he said good naturedly. Like he didn’t already have a reputation from having grown up in the faction. Tris exhaled heavily. Apparently it wasn’t by rank, then. That just left more uncertainty to exactly when she was going to get called. 

“Trainer Four is up next.” Tris jolted from the wall. She hated the way that Christina and Will both exchanged a _look_. 

Max gave a chuckle which wasn’t shared, based on how Four - already standing with his arms crossed at the front of the group - was glowering. “You didn’t get your hands on the list beforehand, did you, Four?” Max laughed. “You’re with Tris Prior.”

The nausea that she had barely been able to keep in control surged in her throat. Heat flooded her face. She took a few rocky steps forward - she had to just put on a good face, right? 

Four’s head shook. “Absolutely not,” he said firmly. It stopped Tris in her tracks more solidly than a punch to the gut. What, she was able to put what had happened between them aside yet he wasn’t? Not even to maintain a professional, working relationship? Hell, _he_ had been the one to break it off. How hard would it have been to just stick to the script? It wasn’t like _he_ was the one now standing in the center of the mentors with all eyes on him. 

Max’s head cocked to the side. “...Beg pardon?” 

“Absolutely not. I can’t work with her. Conflict of interest,” Four spat. “Give me someone else or find another mentor. I don’t need to participate that badly.”

Tris was still stranded between the group of ex-Initiates and the awaiting mentors. Max’s expression hardened. “There will be consequences for this,” he intoned sharply. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Four lifted his hands and shrugged. “It wouldn’t be right. I can’t do it. Find someone else.”

Max’s hand crumpled the list as he pointed firmly to the rear door. “Out. Now. We _will_ be discussing this later though. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’ll work with any other Initiate,” Four insisted.

“Until you mack on the next one and decide you don’t like that flavor of the week,” someone called. Tris covered her mouth and was about to turn on her heel, damn whatever it did to her reputation. 

“Tris Prior is top ranked. You’re an idiot to not take her,” a familiar voice joined the conversation. “I’ll take her. I’m no idiot.” Four’s expression darkened further, but he had only done this to himself. He’d set himself up to once again be one-upped by his rival here. Tris knew she was just moments away from ending up on the floor at this point. She didn’t expect--

She didn’t know how to feel--

“ _That’s_ the proper mentality. This is why you’re top notch in Leadership, Eric,” Max crooned. He gestured once more to the door, and Four stomped his way out. Max’s hand twisted and he crooked a finger now to summon Tris once again to the front. 

Her limbs moving like they’d been attached to puppeteer’s strings, she found herself moving to the front. She extended her hand to meet Eric’s, shaking twice firmly. He had a crooked, cocky smile. It really was all too much. 

“I think you’ll find working with me will open a few more doors than if you’d worked with Four,” Eric said. 

Floundering for what was appropriate, Tris muttered a low “thank you” and darted away as fast as her shaking legs could take her. 

* * *

His heart had pounded in his chest the second that Four’s name had been called. He knew that somehow - maybe because of Lauren, maybe just because the universe liked to cause trouble - _somehow_ Four was going to be paired up with his new ex. 

Eric shouldn’t have known that Tris and Four’s unconventional and unsanctioned relationship existed. He really shouldn’t have felt so angry about it, either, while it was still rolling through the “OooOoo First Love” schmucky nonsense. And he absolutely shouldn’t have felt _relieved_ when news ran through the grapevine that it had imploded. 

And yet, as he had watched Four refuse to even consider mentoring the meteoric star that was Tris Prior, Eric had been preparing himself to step in. 

She wouldn’t like him, that was almost certain. He’d tormented their class for the past weeks with a particular ferocity that only _Floor’s_ presence seemed to elicit. It had been worth it; all the remaining transfers were stellar examples of Dauntless tenacity. But it meant that he was going to be so close and yet so distant from Tris. 

She had taken his hand, though, at the mentor assignment meeting. That was something he could keep with him. And she was a dutious study of everything he tried to bring to her. Tactics, logistics, even rationing and field maneuvers - Tris ate it up with a voracity that only made his chest tighten more. 

He wanted to tell himself that this was enough. Getting to help the top tier Initiate now fully fledged Dauntless to be the very best, that was what he could show Max. He wouldn’t let her be another Four to languish in her own head, refusing to open her eyes to everything that Dauntless needed. 

Just, maybe, it would be nice if she looked at him, too. 

* * *

Sparring, it turned out, was Eric’s favorite way of driving home a lesson. Any lesson, practically. Loyalty? Fight to defend someone you care about. Planning under pressure? Think your way through the fight, don’t just react the whole way through. Coping with the very non-private way that Dauntless was involved in your private business? Try to knock out the young man who stepped in like a goddamn white knight to save your ass. 

Not that Eric was a white knight. Not that Tris should really be feeling these conflicting, heady feelings after so little time had passed when she had thought she’d felt something for Four. Their relationship had imploded as soon as she had realized them. Now, she was desperate to smother anything resembling caring for Eric. 

Because he was too close. Sunup to sundown and then some, they were together. Every day with no exceptions. Flesh against flesh, head against head on the mat and off. Because they clashed. Oh, lord, how they clashed. Eric was stubborn and headstrong and every bit as cocky as he showed during Initiation yet everything was magnified when working one on one with him. Tris refused to back down, either. 

So she never said no when he challenged her to wrap her knuckles and meet her on the mat. Today it happened to be over their conflicting viewpoints on Erudite. Having grown up within the faction, Eric gave free pass to all their posturing and meddling. Tris refused to let him, though, detailing out every flaw in the reports they had gone over this morning. 

“Explain why exactly it’s bad that the faction which has no stake in how decisions are made tries to hold the Council responsible for their actions?” Eric growled before jabbing lightly at her block. Lightly for Eric was about as hard as Will hit though, and Tris winced. 

Tris stepped back, goading him to get closer again. “That’s a false argument. They have plenty of stake in the argument. If they can hit the Council with a strong enough blow politically, they’re primed to ask for a seat at the table. Or take it for themselves,” Tris countered. She was eyeing Eric’s footwork, watching for an opening to kick out his feet. 

“Nothing wrong with having to fight to keep your position.” Eric shuffled close but remained firm in his tance. His knuckles against her forearms _hurt._

“Would you like it if someone was taking everything you did out of context to try and pull a ‘gotcha?’” Tris retorted. _There!_ He bounced up on the balls of his feet between volleys of blows. She weathered the next rapid fire punch-punch-punch-punch on her arms and ducked down to kick out her foot.

Eric dropped but not because of her. He slammed onto her leg with most of his body weight. She felt, saw, smelled, _tasted_ white. Belatedly her mind cued her into the pain before finally letting her drop off into unconsciousness.

* * *

Eric paced back and forth, back and forth through the tiny aisle running up between the beds in the Dauntless infirmary. Now that it was after Initiation, things were more or less back in the typical swing of things. No more tragic falls off the ropes course. No concussion watches after poorly observed fights. 

No broken limbs caused by over-zealous trainers. _Oh wait._

Eric didn’t care much for self-pity. It had its place in losers like Four who loved to languish in it. He tried to avoid it at all costs. No such luck today, thought. Eric couldn’t stop himself from looking at the bed in the center of the room with the tiny, blonde young woman laying in it. It was his fault, one hundred percent. He had easily seen how Tris was projecting her next move. He could have taken the drop to the mat and responded with something less aggressive. Something less brutal. 

He ran a hand through his hair. She had been out of it, first from the pain and then from the heavy dose of painkillers the doc had pushed through the IV to keep her from waking up while she’d set Tris’ leg. It was a clean break. Eric had almost laughed. Of course it was. He’d dropped 220 pounds of muscle onto a 140 pounds-if-that girl. 

He threw himself onto the edge of the bed across from hers. This was an acceptable spot to be in if she woke up, right? Or would she even want to see him? Maybe he should have left after the doc finished strapping on the splint. Eric pulled out a knife from his back holster and flipped it nervously between his hands. 

No, no it would be better to stay. He could explain what happened. Maybe even apologize. The guilt running through him was even worse than the self pity in a way. He’d walked himself around feeling guilty for training accidents in the past. Never would he let himself feel bad when someone didn’t listen. But this was different. Everything was different, being one-on-one with Tris.

His knife wobbled in the air. He had to jerk his hand back to keep the tip from knicking his fingers. That was all he needed. To get stitches. Tris stirred, sending a fresh wave of emotions through Eric. 

Swallowing, he forced himself to his feet. He’d changed his mind. Leaving, that would be fine. He couldn’t bear to face her now. The last thing he wanted now was to feel her blue eyes on him.

* * *

Everything was hazy, like there was a shower curtain hanging inches in front of each object. Still Tris could recognize the shape of Eric’s retreating shoulders. “Hey Eric,” she said weakly. She’d recognize him anywhere now. Since day two of Initiation, really. He always stood out to her. 

He froze or maybe that was just the world freezing around her as she shifted to sit up. Pressure surged in her leg. She looked down and grimaced as she took in the splint. “That bad, huh?” she said more to herself than anyone in particular. Still, it was nice when she looked up and saw Eric had indeed turned around and was now sitting on the bed next to her. 

“It could have been worse,” Eric said darkly. Tris nodded, swallowing the bitter guilt that rose up. She had really underestimated him. 

“I’ll try harder,” she said at the same time that he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” 

Tris blinked slowly. Her head tipped and she leveled her gaze on him. “Did I hear that right?” she said softly. 

A wry smile pulled at his lips. It ate at that part in her gut that she was losing the fight to ignore. “I’m sorry,” Eric repeated. “I shouldn’t have pulled a move like that on you. Sometimes I forget that you’re only three months into being Dauntless. It wasn’t a fair move.”

Her head felt like it was spinning. Tris opened her mouth and then closed it to give herself another moment to think. Time stretched and she knew it was just _silent_ between them. Eric had actually apologized earnestly. It probably wasn’t the first time, but it felt so significant.

That or the painkillers were really messing with her head. 

“...Can you teach me that move?” Tris finally blurted out. Eric blinked before letting out a chuckle. His hand ran through his hair. It made his arms look amazing. Tris clamped her mouth shut before she let _that_ out, too. 

“Well, I’d be a poor mentor if I didn’t. But first we’ll go back through projecting moves. You were doing it most of the fight. That’s why you were having such a tough time,” Eric explained. 

“We were kind of running a whole-ass debate between moves.” He laughed at that. 

“True enough.” 

Silence fell again, but this time it was comfortable. Tris let her head drop back onto the wall behind the bed. She winced when it collided with stone. Eric edged forward, his expression pained. “You okay?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Tris admitted. “It didn’t really hurt. Can’t really feel much right now.” Her hand gestured vaguely in the direction of the IV strung up to her side. 

A switch had been flipped and now Eric’s feet were shuffling. He got to his feet a moment later. “I should leave you. You need rest,” he insisted.

Tris reached up and her fingers caught the edge of his shirt. “Wait!” He looked down at where she gripped the fabric. His expression should have been irritated. It looked strangely conflicted instead. 

Tris plowed ahead before she lost her nerve. “Can you stay? At least a little longer? I don’t… I’d like you to stay,” she said firmly. 

Eric hedged. She could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I can get one of your friends to come up and sit with you. They probably haven’t heard you’re up here. I’m sure they’d be here if they did,” he said. He was rambling. 

Shaking her head, Tris moved her fingers from his shirt to wrap around two of his fingers. “I’m sure they’ll be up later, after dinner or whatever. But for now… I really would like _you_ to stay.” Her heart thundered in her chest. All these weeks of squashing the urge to sit with him in the mess, to spend just five more minutes in the gym, to sit in on the morning briefings instead of waiting in the hall - she was sick of it. 

Maybe things hadn’t gone to plan with Four. Maybe things wouldn’t even get that far here and now with Eric. But she had to try, didn’t she?

Eric’s eyes met hers with the same intensity he saved for battle. But here there was nothing. There was just her fingers around his and a simple request hanging in the air. “I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve not to be hurt by someone,” he said. “Not again.”

Tris felt the air run out of her. The room spun. What were they doing again? Oh, right. He was waiting for her to reply. She inhaled sharply and more firmly took his hand into hers. His fingers were slow to respond, but they twined between hers after a beat. “So don’t hurt me,” she said simply. With a wry smile, she twitched her head down at the splint. “After today, that is.”


End file.
